A Friend To You
by Howling Armadillo
Summary: Tim Turner is attempting to hold his own at a social gathering when he comes face to face with Trixie Tang. Feeling more confident than usual, he decides to talk to her, but when he lets slip an old secret from their past, he is forced to face the consequences for his actions from fifteen years ago. Based primarily on the episode "The Boy Who Would be Queen."


A short thing I wrote a year ago, taking place long after Timmy's fairies have gone away.

* * *

You have never really been one for social gatherings, usually leaving that sort of thing to A.J. While there's always reporters snooping around trying to figure out the secrets behind the T in JT Industries, You've done a pretty good job of keeping yourself behind the scenes, mostly because you doesn't want word to get out that save for a few inventions near the company's genesis, Timothy Turner's biggest contributions have been in marketing.

That's what happens when you decide to start a revolutionary company based on some things you had lying around the house that it turns out are pretty advanced. A.J. never faulted you for it though; he just took over and let you do your thing. It's a good system you two have, A.J. has brains, and you have charisma. The secret is only showing enough charisma to hook people in, while remaining an enigma. And ever since you were a young Timmy, you've prided yourself on being pretty good at keeping secrets.

Granted, you can't remember what was so special about your pet goldfish at all these days, but the important thing is that you didn't let anybody else find out either! And people tried, oh yes they certainly tried all right. You will never fully understand just what was going on in your old elementary school teacher's head.

Anyways. Social gatherings. Right.

A.J. managed to talk you into this, claiming an invention needed his supervision for the next twelve hours. Having nothing to do until the invention's completion, you obviously had nothing better to do than to meet with some shareholders and show your face for once. You've has always been helpless against A.J.'s power of facts.

So now you're milling about, drinking punch and sampling hors d'oeuvres, shaking hands and trying not to let on to the fact that you haven't invented anything since you started the company five years ago. As it turns out you needn't have worried: at this point your name is intimidating enough that people just laugh and go along with whatever you say. It's like you're ten years old again, that one day when you almost managed to trick people into thinking Timmy Turner was one of the cool kids.

The paparazzi are still eying you, but enough of these rich people have private bodyguards around that they keep their distance. There's plenty of not so rich but still pretty important people around to bother. At the moment they seem to be looking towards the center of attention in the room, the one person you've never been able to match up to (not for lack of trying): Trixie.

For as long as you can remember, back as far as your early days as a young Timmy, Trixie has been the star of whatever room she walks into. This was originally supposed to be a party for JT Industries to celebrate five years in business, but all of that changed when Trixie walked in. Her family holds a significant share in the company, almost as much as A.J. or yourself, so it isn't exactly surprising to see her. But you still feel like a deer in the headlights whenever you glance in her direction. Sixteen years and your crush is as strong as ever, and somehow equally hopeless.

She's dressed tonight in an evening gown the color of lavenders, much like how she used to dress when you were kids. Her hair is tied up in a bun, she has a small purse on her shoulder, and her makeup is accenting perfectly without being too noticeable. You on the other hand are wearing a black suit with an ugly pink tie over a shirt that barely fits you any more. She looks like she descended from heaven, a goddess blessing the lower folk with her presence; you look like a slob who's pretending to belong here.

At any rate, Trixie walks into a room, and immediately everyone has eyes on her. It makes things easier as far as you're concerned: you don't exactly like attention, as thrilling as it can be to receive it sometimes. You've received enough bad attention over the years that you always find yourself waiting for the other shoe to fall whenever somebody talks to you. Trixie is comfortable with people, so she can draw them to her as much as she wants, as far as you're concerned.

Or so you are thinking before you hear a voice screaming in pain. You look back in alarm to see one of the members of the press currently having his arm twisted behind his back by Trixie. The entire room has gone silent, and you find yourself suddenly understanding why Trixie doesn't keep a bodyguard around anymore.

It would seem her old interest in martial comics turned into an interest in professional training at some point, because she is staring coldly down at the reporter while holding him with two fingers, one on his wrist and the other on his neck. Its pretty damn impressive, though also rather obviously terrifying. One of the other reporters raises his camera to take a picture, but she sends one look at him and he throws his camera on the ground and steps on it. When the closest thing in the room to an actual goddess looks at you like that, you run.

Running is almost definitely what you would like to do right now, but since A.J.'s not here, it falls to you to maintain proper public relations here, so you take a deep breath and step into the area rapidly clearing around Trixie and the unfortunate paparazzo.

"Sorry for the inconvenience Trixie, I'll handle him from here." You say with a nervous smile. Trixie looks over at you, seemingly confused, but after a beat she relinquishes her hold on the man. You take over immediately, grabbing the man by the shoulders and manhandling him towards the front door. Any struggling is futile, the result of your time playing college football leaving you with more than enough muscle to pick up the hapless man and toss him out the door. Chester, your old friend and current head of security, watches casually from his desk, a smirk on his face.

"If he tries to get back in get the cops over here." you remark to Chester. "I don't know what this guy did, but we're not giving him a chance to piss anybody off again."

"Sure thing, buddy!" Chester grins cheekily, "though you should probably leave it to me to throw out the next security risk. I know you want to impress her, but I'm here for a reason."

"That was far from the only paparazzi here, Chester, keep it down." You say flatly to him. "You keep running your mouth about that and I'll let your last name slip to these guys."

"I'll be good!" Chester draws a cross over his heart and shares a smirk with Tim before relaxing in his seat again. Meanwhile, you wander back out into the party, which has resumed since you threw the man out. A few paparazzi are eying you, as well as some of the guests, but other than one or two people wanting to shake your hand, most are keeping their distance now.

"If I had known all I had to do to get some breathing room was to start throwing people, I'd have done that a lot sooner," you mutter dryly, looking out across the room. You can see one or two paparazzi slinking out, while the braver remain and act casually. Clearly some of these men have been annoying some guests of their own, and the thought of facing an angry Trixie likely intimidates them.

Trixie, meanwhile, appears to have vanished, and you decide to seek her out, to make sure that she's unharmed (obviously). You glance around the room a bit, but not seeing her there, you decide she's likely out on the veranda, abandoned due to the night chill. It's a good place for somebody to be alone.

You look out the door and see her, a martini glass in hand, staring miserably out into the estate. A.J. put a lot of work into this house considering he mostly sleeps in his lab or office, and the sight of sculpted hedges under flickering gas light is mesmerizing.

You quietly walk across the balcony and stand at the railing a few feet away from Trixie, staring out over the yard. "It's uhh, pretty nice, huh? The garden I mean." You say casually.

"I guess." Trixie seems to be trying to keep to herself now, a worrying sign for you after years of seeing her feed off of attention.

"Hey, that guy didn't hurt you, did he?" you look over at Trixie worriedly. "This isn't like you."

"Look asshole, I don't know who you are or how you know my name, but if you think just because you took some cameraman off my hands that I'm going to give you the time of day I'll do to you what I did to him." Trixie snaps back at you, electing a confused chuckle.

"Are you serious?" you look again at the glare Trixie is sending you, before inching a bit further away. "Okay, you're serious. You don't recognize me at all?"

"Should I?"

You pause at the question, thinking it over. "Well, I suppose without the buck teeth or pink hat it's not too surprising actually." Really, you've changed a lot over the years, come to think of it.

Trixie scrutinizes you for a moment before her face lights up with recognition. "Timmy? Timmy Turner, that's actually you? You look so different!"

You laugh, "Well it took some doing, but I managed to get my teeth fixed a few years back. And I definitely outgrew the hat."

Trixie smiles a little at that, shaking her head. "I didn't mean that. Well, the teeth threw me, but I'm referring to your height more than anything."

"Oh yeah, I guess I am taller than you now, aren't I?" You look down at Trixie in surprise, "I guess I didn't notice." The girl has always towered over you in the past.

Trixie nods to her shoes, a pair of heels, lying on the ground beside her. "You weren't until just now. The heel snapped a minute ago. That cameraman was trying to take an up-skirt photo while I stumbled."

You scowl at this, "I almost hope he tries to sneak back in now, Chester will have a field day with him."

Trixie looks over at you curiously, "So wait, are you both security here? I've only ever seen Chester or A.J."

There's a pause as you stare blankly at Trixie once more. "Trixie, I'm hosting this party. A.J. is busy at the lab so I'm taking over for him."

Trixie stares at you for a few moments. "You're the 'T' in JT Industries?"

"Yup. T for Turner. Though what the J stands for is still anyone's guess, A.J. has never revealed what his real name is." you shrugs and looks back towards the party. "Again, I guess I can't blame you for not knowing, I try to stay out of the limelight."

"Nobody can stay out of the public eye that well." Trixie says suspiciously. "Are you messing with me?"

"Nope, I've got these." you smirk and pull out a Groucho disguise, slipping it on. "I don't know what it is about these glasses, but nobody can ever tell it's me when I'm wearing them. They always mistake me for one of America's most beloved comedians. And if it doesn't work, I've always got my football training to fall back on."

"Sounds convenient." Trixie sighs and sinks deeper against the railing. "I wish I had something to use like that."

"What about that hold you put that guy in?" you gesture, holding your arms like Trixie had earlier. "That looked pretty useful."

"It just gets their attention. Did you see how many eyes were on me when I twisted that creep's arm? I want to avoid people, not put them in a neck brace!"

"Yeah, Skull Squisher moves are not to be used on the general public." You say with a smile, remembering an old conversation he had with Trixie long ago. You chuckle to yourself wryly, but stop when you notice Trixie has fallen silent. She's staring at you, eyes narrowed.

"How did you know I used to read Skull Squisher?" Trixie says quietly.

"Uhh… you told me?" You quail under her gaze, suddenly not sure of anything.

Trixie reaches out and slaps you, and you're forced to come to terms with the fact that you don't understand anything anymore. "I never told anyone about Skull Squisher! If somebody knew I'd be a laughingstock! Nobody knew! Nobody except for-" Trixie's mouth snaps shut as she turns away angrily.

You can only stare after her in horror. You've messed up so badly! You were right about Trixie confessing to you her love of comic books, but you forgot one important detail. A name that you were never supposed to reveal that you knew. "Timantha," you say breathlessly, mentally kicking yourself.

Trixie freezes and whirls around in surprise. "Nobody knew except for Timantha." The two of you stare at each other in surprise, before Trixie starts sputtering. "Wait, how do you know who Timantha is? I haven't met a person in all of Dimmsdale who knew her! So why do you… YOU." Trixie's face goes dark. You back away nervously.

"Oh man, look, I know this seems bad…" you can only stammer; as Trixie advances on you looking angrier than you've ever seen.

"Bad? BAD? You're Timantha! All this time the only person I've ever been able to call a true friend in my life was a cross-dressing asshole looking for a date!" Trixie grabs you by the tie and pulls you face to face with her, before slapping you hard enough to knock your glasses off. "Why would you do that?"

"Uhh, uhh, I just, I was just trying to come up with a great birthday present for you!" You cry out in a panic. Technically true, though your original thought was that dressing like a girl would be enough to give you inspiration. You were a very stupid young Timmy.

Trixie slaps you again. "So you decide the best way is to pretend to be my friend, and then leave without a word? Do you have any idea how much that messed me up at the time? I couldn't trust anybody! I thought everyone I knew would abandon me like 'Timantha' did! The one person I had ever met who was interested in the same things I was, who saw me for who I really am, and now I find out that she didn't just abandon me, she was never even real to begin with!"

You get one last slap across the face as Trixie starts crying and goes to grab her shoes. You watch her sadly as she starts to storm through the room, but aren't sure if there's anything you can say at this point. You had no idea that your actions had affected her so badly. For a moment you remembers back to your time as a young Timmy, when you had decided to dress as a girl to find out what Trixie wanted.

"All week people have been asking me what I wanted for my birthday, and you've given it to me. You've given me a friend who likes me for who I am." When you heard those words fifteen years ago, you thought you'd been given an easy way to win the affections of your childhood crush. In retrospect though, you just found an easy way to make her bitter and sad her whole life. You may have single-handedly made her life miserable.

You look down to see Trixie storming out the front door, heading for your main gate on foot. Apparently she's decided to forgo the limo tonight. You decide to help escort her home so that you can apologize. The plan is foolproof! You vault the veranda railing and run across A.J.'s lawn after Trixie's fleeing form.

"Trixie, I know I messed up, but please, just hear me out! I didn't mean to hurt you; I was trying to make sure your birthday was special. I didn't realize Timantha was so important to you!"

"I told you how important you were to me!" Trixie whirls on you again, tears running down her face. "I told you what having a friend like Timantha meant to me!"

"I know you did."

"Then how dare you say you didn't realize?"

"I thought you wouldn't need her!"

"Why wouldn't I need somebody I specifically said was my only true friend?"

"Because you were supposed to have me!" You throw your arms in the air and yell in her face. "I was supposed to become your friend." Trixie stares at you in shock, and you drop your arms slowly. "I'm sorry. I thought that as long as I said the same things to you as Timmy that I did as Timantha, you'd be able to accept me."

Trixie can only look blankly at you. "Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"Oh yeah, because that would work out well." you sit down in the grass with a groan. "Hey Trixie, Timantha was actually me the whole time! But don't worry; I'd still love to try on dresses with you! I was enough of an outcast in school already without that sort of rumor spreading."

"Wait, are you actually in to…"

"Not a chance."

"So you just cross dressed to get close to me."

"It wasn't the original plan, but I went with it as things continued."

Trixie looks down on you with pure apathy. Clearly she's fed up with you for the evening, if not the rest of her life. "Good night, Timmy." She starts to walk away as you pick yourself up to your feet. She's moving for the front gate again when an idea comes to you.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH!" You scream out wildly.

Trixie slows to a stop, and looks back at you in confusion. You grin as she stares at you and yell with renewed energy. "BLAHBLAH, BLAH BLAH BLAH!"

"Are you insane?" Trixie stares at you as you try to catch up while yelling like an idiot. "I have no idea what you're saying…" She pauses as if thinking to herself, before her eyes widen and she looks back at you in surprise.

"BLAH BLAH, You know, I like you for who you are, and not for what everyone expects you to be! A friend to you, someone who isn't afraid to say: 'hey, I like Kissy Kissy Goo Goo, and Skull Squisher!'" You smile as a look of recognition appears on her face. "I know you probably think I was just telling you what you wanted to hear, but I really did mean every word of it."

Trixie stares at you for a long while, before she starts crying anew, sinking to the ground and burying her face in her hands. Your idea was clearly terrible! You walk up slowly, afraid of upsetting her further.

"Uhh, Trixie? I'm sorry for making you so miserable. I should just stop bothering you, so… I mean, let me at least drive you home I guess, it's almost midnight, and with your shoes-oof!" You try not to stumble too much, but Trixie throwing all of her weight at your chest does catch you off guard. You brace yourself for another impact, but you notice suddenly that Trixie isn't hitting you. She's hugging you.

Okay, wait, what? That's the exact opposite of the reaction you were expecting! You stand there for a while as Trixie cries into your chest, awkwardly hugging her back. When she finally pulls away you're not sure what to do with your hands anymore, so you stuff them in your pockets. Trixie on the other hand, is acting as though nothing happened, using a handkerchief she pulled from her bag to clean the makeup running on her face. You look down at your shirt to see that it has also become stained with eyeliner. Just as well, you probably needed a new one anyways.

In the end, Trixie takes your offer to drive her home, giving a small nod when you offer again. With her makeup gone now she looks plainer, less like some sort of Goddess and more like a human being, not that you're complaining. She doesn't talk the entire drive home, though. She sits silently in the passenger seat of your car, staring out the window, and you, feeling every bit the nervous Timmy you were back in grade school, can't bring yourself to talk to her.

Finally, when you reach her house, you can't bear the silence any longer. "Hey Trixie," you say as you pull through the front gate, "I just want you to know, if you ever need anything, just call, or something. Wait! I forgot, you don't have my number." You grab a pen and paper from the side compartment and start scribbling your number down. "You don't have to, of course, I mean, I wouldn't want you to feel obligated, but if you need to talk I would totally be okay with that-"

You're cut off as Trixie's lips brush against yours, a touch so soft and swift that for a moment you wonder whether it really happened. But the look of soft affection Trixie sends at you as she takes the number from your hand and smiles at you removes any doubts. You just smile back, as she opens the door and steps out.

"I'll see you soon, Timmy Turner." her voice rings out as she closes the door and vanishes into her house with a final wave.

You sit dumbstruck for a brief moment, before coming to your senses and pulling away, deciding to head home. You're definitely not looking prepared to face Dimmsdale's rich and famous looking like you are. That said though, you think you might rethink things the next time A.J. invites you to a party. Social gathering might not be so bad after all.


End file.
